Nurture, not nature
by Random Dorky Writer
Summary: A story about Draco and Dobby, and how the two created an unlikely friendship. Warning: Lucis Malfoy fans keep away! Not a one-shot.


Draco tiptoed slowly up the spiral staircase. He could hear the murmur of conversation coming from downstairs, and the clink of firewhiskey glasses. Good. That meant his father was still with the strange, cloaked visitors. Narcissa was away visiting Aunt Bella in Azkaban. He could not miss this golden opportunity to find out what was in his father's study.

He arrived at the top at a set of heavy oak doors. His heart was pounding in his throat. The study had always been off limits, and he had been warned of terrible punishment. Only the most important guests were allowed in here. The doors had no handles and no keyhole. He hesitantly pressed his hand to it, and it swung open surprisingly lightly. As the room before him was revealed, Draco gasped.

It was perfectly circular, and had huge ceilings that stretched seemingly endlessly into the air. Moonlight streamed through the massive windows, reflecting off Draco's white-blond hair. Like most of the rooms in Malfoy Manor, this one was covered in dark damask furnishings, snake carvings, and ancient oil paintings that glared at Draco as he passed by. The walls were lined with cabinets taller than him. A mahogany desk stood at the far end of the room.

With the fearless curiosity only a seven year old can have, Draco set to rummaging through the drawers. At first, he found nothing to catch his interest- a large claw, bottles of yellowish potions, and a strange device on a necklace that looked a bit like an hourglass. Draco idly picked it up, but soon lost interest in it, because jewelry was only for girls.

One of the drawers, however, was different. It had only one object in it, a small, leather book. Draco knew it was not a spell book, for he had seen many his family's library. This was smaller, and older. He picked it up, and leafed through it. There was nothing in it except for the name _Tom Riddle_ and an address in Vauxhall.

He crossed the room to his father's desk. Picking up a quill, he flipped to an empty page. Even if his father did find out he had been writing in it, it was only an old book, and an empty one at that.

There was suddenly a loud CRACK! Draco spun around to see a familiar figure. "Dobby, what the hell are you doing in here. You're not allowed in my father's study!" he spat.

"Neither is Master Draco!" squeaked the house-elf. "Master Draco must not touch that book!"

"And why not?" he answered scornfully.

"That book has most terrible magic! Dobby can never be a great wizard like the Malfoys, but house-elves can sense some things wizards cannot!"

"Dobby I order you to go downstairs and leave me alone!" With that, the boy dipped his quill in the ink and prepared to write again.

The elf, however, had other plans. He launched himself at Draco, knocking the book out of his hand. "Master Draco will NOT write in the cursed book!" he shrieked. Draco was astounded. Never before had Dobby ignored a direct order.

Suddenly, Draco felt a cold hand pull on the back of his robes. Draco found himself facing his father, who was angrier than he had ever seen him. His usually pale face was blotchy red, and his pale blue eyes burned with fury.

"HOW DARE YOU COME IN HERE!" he hissed. "Do you know how dangerous that book is?"

"If the room is so dangerous, than why was it so easy for me to open?" Draco c

"It only opens at the touch of a Malfoy. This study has been used in our family for generations."

"Then am I not deserving of it?"

Lucis hit his son across the face. "You are no Malfoy, boy!" he spat. The boy was so annoying sometimes. Nosy, whiny, selfish, and agnorrant. Could this boy really be his son?

"If you please, Master Malfoy, Master Draco was only here because of me, sir." Both Malfoys whirled around, totally surprised by the thin, reedy voice interrupting them. "Dobby had Apparated into the room to clean, sir. Dobby was looking at the book, and Master Draco was trying to stop him."

Lucis took a deep breath. "Is this true, Draco?" he demanded. The boy could only nod, frightened.

"Leave this room now! If I ever see you in here again, you'll get worse than the back of my hand, I promise. Dobby, stay here. You are to be punished."

Draco stumbled down the stairs, fleeing his irate father. He slammed his door, and flopped himself onto his four-poster bed. He knew he should not cry, that it was unmanly to cry, that his father had told him a thousand times not to. Yet, he could not hold them back, and he sat sobbing until he lost track of time. He was, after all, only a few months from his eight birthday.

There was a gentle knock on the door . Wearily, Draco opened it and found a tray loaded with sandwiches and tea. After the night's excitement, he had almost forgotten that he had not eaten dinner. He looked down the corridor, but Dobby was nowhere in sight. "Thanks, Dobby." he whispered hoarsely. He had never thanked the house-elf before, and it felt odd, like thanking a chair for letting you sit in it. Exhausted, he ate the sandwiches and quickly fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

**Yes, I know in COS Draco saw the diary and teased Harry about it, but he only saw it for a moment and it is doubtful that he would have recognized it years later. This is my first Fan Fiction, so please review!**


End file.
